Today was a Fairytale
by TheGirlWhoRemembers
Summary: How much can your life change in 24 hours? Between 8 PM on February 13th and 8 PM on February 14th, Jack and Diane realize they might still have feelings for each other and contemplate a second chance, Bozer and Riley wonder if their friendship could become something more, and Mac fixes a pretty doctor's car, an incident that leads to them pondering their missed connection.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Yeah, I wrote another _MacGyver_ rom-com. No-one will believe me now when I say I don't even like rom-coms…

The title comes from the Taylor Swift song, which is incidentally from the soundtrack of the film _Valentine's Day,_ which was one of the inspirations for this fic (both follow multiple people/couples on Valentine's Day with intersecting storylines). The other inspirations were the Jack/Diane subplot of 2.15, Murdoc + Handcuffs, one of my theories regarding which way they might be going with Bozer/Leanna and Riley (the one that I'm hoping will happen, in all honesty!) and Mac and Jack's little conversation regarding how people in _their line of work_ don't get fairytale endings.

* * *

 **FEBRUARY 13** **th** **2018**

 **8 PM**

 **MACGYVER'S RESIDENCE**

* * *

'Tiger-bear!'

Wilt Bozer, FBI forensic accountant extraordinaire and part-time filmmaker and kitchen wizard, snorted into his beer and pointed at his BFF's other BFF, Jack Dalton, Army vet, mechanic and owner of Dalton Auto Repair, as his BFF Angus MacGyver, former Army EOD, now a JPL engineer, mimed something that looked a bit like claws.

(Bozer wasn't sure, but if he was on Mac's team for this charades competition – he wasn't, he had teamed up with Riley Davis, Mac's JPL co-worker, though she was in software, while Mac was a hardware guy, while Riley's mom Diane, who also happened to be Jack's ex-girlfriend, was their 'independent adjudicator' – he would have guessed wolverine, the furry wild animal kind, not the Hugh Jackman kind. Or maybe a panther.)

'Man, what the hell is a tiger-bear?'

'It's a criss-cross! Had to kill one with my bare hands once.'

Everyone else snorted in disbelief. Mac paused in his miming and looked very much like he wanted to give Jack a lecture on genetics, but instead seized a glass from next to Riley, who immediately held up a hand.

'Woah, woah, woah! Mac, we talked about this. No props!'

Mac sighed, just as the sand in the hourglass ran out and it made a loud buzzing sound.

(The hourglass had been modified by Mac two hours previous.)

Diane raised an eyebrow and leaned over to whisper in her daughter's ear.

'I thought you said he was smart.'

Meanwhile, Mac, frustrated, put down the glass and flung his hands in the air, addressing Jack.

'Fridge. The word was refrigerator.'

' _Refrigerator_? Mac, brother, in what Bizzaro parallel universe do fridges have _claws_? You milking a cow?'

'I was tracing the shape of the evaporator coils on the back of every refrigerator!'

Riley just gestured to Mac, glancing at her mom with a _see?_ look on her face. Diane responded with an elegantly arched eyebrow and a nod, while Bozer pointed at his best friend with his beer bottle as Jack flung his hands up in the air.

'Nobody knows what that is, bro!'

'How are you a genius everywhere else and so bad at this stuff? We discussed this, brother! Keep it simple and non-technical!'

'It's charades, not How It's Made!'

'Seriously, brother, you've just gone and lost us the game!'

'We were trailing 17-1, Jack! I did _not_ just lose us the game!'

'Well, we wouldn't have been trailing 17-1 if you could just keep it simple, not-stupid!'

As Mac and Jack kept bickering, Diane glanced at her daughter and Bozer, an eyebrow raised.

Bozer and Riley just shrugged and shook their heads with fond exasperation.

'Yeah, they're always like this, Mom.'

'You get used to 'em.'

Mac and Jack's bromance (which hadn't always been a bromance – they'd had a contentious first meeting in Afghanistan, but their bromance had, from their stories, quickly bloomed after they saved each other's lives a couple of times and built some mutual respect) was legendary.

So was their banter.

* * *

 **9 PM**

* * *

Jack followed Riley into the kitchen to help her grab refills for everyone, and leaned on the counter as the young woman reached into the fridge.

'I know what you're doing, Riley.'

'I'm getting everyone refills.'

Jack shook his head with a fond little grin.

Riley had plenty of sass.

She'd had plenty as an eleven-year-old, and even now, sixteen years, including nine years of separation, later, she still had it.

'No, no. Inviting your mom to charades tonight? It's just like when Susan and Sharon recreated their parents' first date at Martinelli's.'

Riley put the beers down on the counter and raised an eyebrow at him.

'Okay, try again with different words.'

' _The Parent Trap._ ' He pointed at her. 'You might not be identical twins with yourself, but I know you invited your mom here tonight to try and rekindle whatever spark there might have been between us.' Jack crossed his arms. 'Who do you think you are, Hayley Mills?'

Riley crossed her own arms.

'You mean Lindsay Lohan?'

'I'm not talking about the reboot. Reboots never work!'

'That one worked.'

'The point is, I've seen the movie too many times. It's not going to happen.'

Riley uncrossed her arms, expression softening.

'Between Sarah last year and Dixie…' The con-woman had seduced Jack, then taken him for almost everything he had. It was made worse by the fact that they were all convinced that her feelings hadn't been entirely faked. '…you've had your share of heartbreaks.' Jack gave a somewhat-bitter chuckle. 'So has Mom.' She paused, looking into the eyes of the man who was the closest thing she'd ever had to a father for a moment. 'Now that she's moving back to LA, would it really be so bad if you two gave it another shot?'

* * *

 **10 PM**

* * *

As they cleaned up the night's dishes in the kitchen, Riley glanced over at Bozer, who was beginning to look a little down.

That was unsurprising.

Tomorrow was Valentine's Day, and while Riley, if you'd asked her a few years ago, would have scoffed and said that it was a commercialized day marked by overpriced dinners and flowers and chocolates and slick, superficial gestures of 'love', she was now beginning to think that underneath all of that, there was still a heart of genuine love and romance to be found.

(Riley attributed that to the friendship she'd developed with Mac when she'd started working at JPL after a District Attorney, Patricia Thornton, had gotten her out of jail, securing her a really, really good parole deal because she'd gone to prison to protect her mom from The Collective, a nefarious hacker organization that had wanted her to hack the NSA, which she'd refused to do, instead deliberately getting herself caught after setting her mom up with a new identity in Vancouver, and the subsequent friendship she'd developed with the blonde's childhood best friend, and the following reconciliation with Jack.)

(It was very, very hard to not be a little bit of a romantic when you were friends with the three of them, who all seemed to exude goodness. They – especially Mac – said the cheesiest, corniest things, such as _we're not just friends, we're family; any problem of yours is a problem of mine,_ yet somehow, it was also obvious that they meant it wholeheartedly.)

Bozer and his until-recently-girlfriend Leanna (an FBI agent from San Francisco whom Bozer had met when she'd been sent down to LA for a three week assignment) had broken up less than a month ago.

He sighed sadly as he put the last of the plates in the dishwasher, his expression settling into something that made Riley think of kicked puppies.

Only once had she seen Bozer sadder than when he and Leanna had broken up, and that was when he'd told her about the very tragic death of his younger brother when he was a kid.

And his sadness and heartbreak was making her sad, and maybe even breaking her heart a little.

(Sure, sometimes, Bozer-in-love had made her want to vomit, but they'd been kinda sweet, too, and she knew that despite the fact that he and Leanna had only known each other in person for three weeks before going long-distance, Bozer had genuinely loved her.)

Of course it was.

Bozer was her friend.

A really, really good friend.

He probably really should be considered her best friend, despite their relationship's rather complicated start.

When they'd first been introduced by Mac, he'd hit on her endlessly. She'd hated that, it'd made her uncomfortable, even though she'd thought that Bozer, the real Bozer, who was loyal and sweet and funny, who always tried to lighten the mood and did everything he could to bring cheer and that feeling of _home_ into his friends' lives (it might not seem like much, but Riley appreciated his amazing home-cooked meals and crazy Halloween costumes and outrageous stories more than she could say), who'd helped her find an apartment, introduced her to this ridiculous but surprisingly fun game that involved hitting rubber ducks into Mac and Bozer's neighbour's pool with golf clubs when she'd mentioned that she'd never played mini-golf, taught her how to cook and gone all-out to convince her of the magic of Christmas, was actually kind of cute.

Then, Jack had given him the kick up the ass he'd needed to stop letting his hopes about what they could be get in the way of their friendship, and they'd become real, true, great friends.

They played video games together (they had the same great taste – they both loved _Resident Evil 7_ ), grabbed burgers and tacos and Philly cheesesteaks and lemon curd donuts and fried chicken and all manner of other delicious meals from food trucks and diners and dives (Bozer was really into food blogs, and Riley had written a little program to filter through the huge number of recommendations online to pick out the best of the best for them to try) and went shopping together too (they were both really stylish – unlike two former soldiers that they both knew…).

Bozer was staring at the kitchen counter without really seeing it, still very much morose.

Riley really, really didn't like that look on him.

Bozer was a cheerful person by nature, and who didn't hate seeing their friends sad?

So, she dried her hands and put an arm around his shoulders with a conspiratorial little grin.

'Wanna help me pull a _Parent Trap_ on my mom and Jack?'

* * *

Meanwhile, out on the deck, Mac was cleaning up.

He wasn't supposed to be doing that alone; Jack and Diane, who were both leaning on the railing, supposedly staring at the view but really staring at each other while the other wasn't looking, as Jack told a funny anecdote from his recent high school reunion and Diane laughed musically, were supposed to be helping.

 _Obviously, they aren't._

Mac smiled as he picked up several beer bottles.

 _But I don't mind._

 _After all, who could begrudge their friends some happiness? A shot at that white-picket-fence happy ending? A chance to build a life with the right one?_

 _Especially a friend as deserving as Jack._

* * *

 **11 PM**

* * *

Jack made his way back out onto the deck, where Mac was standing, alone, staring at the LA skyline, his fingers re-shaping a paperclip.

(Bozer was dropping Riley and Diane back at Riley's, where Diane was staying until she found her own place.)

There was a sad, affectionate little smile on the older man's face as he walked over to join the younger.

Jack knew very well that Mac believed in the true meaning, the true heart, of Valentine's Day.

He also knew that Mac very much wanted that white-picket-fence happy ending, with a wife, kids and maybe a dog called Archimedes the Second.

He had known that ever since one night in the desert on the other side of the world and a poignant, sad, hopeful, wistful and reminiscent conversation.

And he knew that Mac's romantic history was, to say the least, complicated, movie-worthy and pretty tragic.

And the most recent 'event' in said history was probably the most tragic of all.

In November of the previous year, the young JPL engineer had been called upon for an emergency video consultation.

(There was a reason why Mac, a college dropout – an MIT dropout, but still a dropout – had received several prestigious job offers, including from JPL, DARPA and the CIA's research division, when he'd returned home from Afghanistan for good.)

(Jack had personally borne witness to – and been saved by – more than a handful of the apparent miracles that the younger man could pull off, using anything and everything from paperclips and duct tape and sticks of gum to a rifle bolt carrier, parts of a Humvee, rocks and the awning of an Afghani fruit seller's stand.)

A college research vessel, the R.V. Bancroft, had been badly damaged, without power, and stranded in the Arctic. Help had been hours away, and the souls on-board hadn't had that much time.

Using only what had been on-board the ship and the expedition leader, PhD student and glaciologist Zoe Kiruma, as his hands, Mac had pulled off several almost-miracles, against all odds.

But one last near-miracle had been beyond him.

He and Zoe had saved 31 out of the 32 souls on-board.

But Mac had never gotten to show Zoe around JPL and they'd never gotten to go grab rocky road ice-cream like they'd planned.

They might never have met in person, and they might have only ever known each other for a few hours, but they had _connected._

Connected in a special way.

Jack believed, from everything he'd heard, that if she'd lived, Zoe might well have been Mac's right one.

She was very intelligent, she was beautiful. She was geeky and sweet and hadn't just rolled with Mac's weirdness, she'd understood it and appreciated it and found it attractive. And she was brave and strong and the sort of person who'd give her life for others.

So, of course, he knew that this Valentine's Day couldn't be easy for Mac.

'You wanna talk, son?'

Mac glanced over at him, looking up from the ice-cream-cone-shaped paperclip in his hands, a sadness-tinged, soft, wistful smile on his face.

'No, not really.'

Jack smiled that same smile back at the blonde, and reached out to put an arm around his shoulders.

'Alright, then you don't have to. But that don't mean I have to be silent, right? 'Cause you know I like to chat…'

As Jack rambled, Mac shook his head with a chuckle.

Jack's smile widened.

That was definitely a win.

* * *

 **FEBRUARY 14** **th** **2018**

 **12 AM**

* * *

'You okay, bro? You know, since tomorrow's tomorrow and all…'

Bozer sipped at a mug of his special, top-secret-recipe hot chocolate, as his BFF, leaning on the other side of the kitchen counter that Bozer was sitting at, sipped his own hot drink.

(Jack had left a little while ago, and the two roommates were having a quick nightcap before turning in.)

Mac gave a wry little smirk.

'Technically, it already is Valentine's Day, Boze.' Bozer rolled his eyes with exasperated affection, as Mac's expression softened. 'And yeah, I'm okay.' He paused and sipped his hot chocolate. 'Are _you_ okay, since _today_ is Valentine's Day?'

Bozer shot him an _I see what you did there and I'm really not impressed_ look, then his own expression grew more serious and simultaneously softer and he nodded.

'Yeah.' Then, his face broke into a fond little grin, tinged with wryness and sadness. 'With friends like you, who needs a V-Day date?'

Mac returned that grin, clinking his mug to Bozer's in a toast, before the shorter man got up off his stool and pulled his BFF into a side-hug.

 _There's a bit of a gap in my life that my friends-who-are-family can't fill, as amazing as they are._

 _I am lonely in a way that they can't help me with._

 _But that does not mean that I'm alone, and that does not mean that I'm lonely in general._

 _I have a family. I have loved ones who love me in return._

 _So even if I don't find that white-picket-fence ending; wife, kids and maybe a dog, I know I've already got a happy ending._

* * *

 **1 AM**

 **CHEZ DALTON**

 **(JACK'S RESIDENCE)**

* * *

Jack walked back into his bedroom from the bathroom, and got into bed, but instead of lying down, sat there and stared at the framed _Die Hard_ poster, with Bruce Willis heroically posed as John McClane, that hung on the wall opposite his bed.

The poster that Riley had given him for Christmas when she was fifteen.

One of those precious Christmases when they'd been, in hindsight, a proper family.

(Christmas had never been a big deal for the Davis women, but they'd had a lovely little celebration, just the three of them, a handful of times, and Jack truly treasured those memories.)

He'd been very, very foolish to walk out that night, and to refuse to return any of Diane and Riley's calls and texts.

He'd been scared.

A little scared that they might reject him for throwing Elwood around, for using violence like he had (well, better than he had, actually – Jack was a Delta, after all; he could definitely beat up a drunk with no military training who hardly worked out without breaking a sweat).

But, honestly, in his heart of hearts, he'd walked out that night because he'd been scared of what he'd come to mean to them.

He'd been scared, because he'd realized, deep down, that Riley was starting to view him as a father, and he was so, so scared of screwing that up, because he had never thought that he was a good enough man for the two of them.

So he'd done something abysmally stupid and left them.

He'd been so, so lucky that Riley had fallen into his life by chance, by coincidence again.

(It'd taken him years to realize his mistake – honestly, it'd taken Riley falling into his life again - but he had.)

(Jack didn't care what Mac said about coincidences being statistically inevitable. He saw Riley's re-entry into his life by way of her becoming Mac's co-worker and friend as a blessing, as a stroke of extraordinarily good fortune, a second chance granted to him that he wasn't convinced he deserved, but was doing everything he could to earn, to prove that he was worthy of.)

Jack shook his head, a regretful, yet somehow affectionate, smile on his face.

He could practically hear Diane's voice in his head, full of exasperated fondness.

 _Jack Wyatt Dalton, you are a very stupid man._

* * *

AN: How was that? Did I do a decent job adapting canon elements to this AU? This story is complete; there's four full chapters plus an epilogue, and I'll post a chapter a day from today (the day before Valentine's Day here in Australia) until it's done.


	2. Chapter 2

**2 AM**

 **MACGYVER'S RESIDENCE**

* * *

In his sleep, Bozer grinned in a way that was almost a smirk, as his very active imagination kicked into gear even as he slept…

* * *

'Man, chicks are gonna be all over this spy thing.'

He was a spy.

Mac was a spy.

Jack and Riley were spies.

 _Awesome._

Standing in a very classy, modern room with lots of glass, Bozer grinned at his BFF, who just raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

'Yeah, but you can't tell them, remember?'

* * *

'Hey, Bozer, you alone?'

Bozer, wearing a lab coat and working on a truly impressive (even if he said so himself) full-head prosthesis in a really high tech lab, looked up at Riley as she walked in.

'Looks that way. Why, what's up?'

Riley, her expression serious, simply hit a button that caused the lab doors to lock and the glass to frost over.

* * *

'…I think we have another mole in the Phoenix.'

Bozer stared at the young woman in front of him and sighed.

'It's me.'

'You?'

Riley looked very confused, and he continued.

'I met someone. At spy school. Her name's Leanna. She's amazing. Like, amazing amazing…'

* * *

'You can't tell Matty.'

'I don't want to, but if she finds out that I knew about this and stayed quiet…'

* * *

'Look, I already made my choice. So now I guess you got to make yours.'

* * *

'…Look, Bozer, what you did was stupid and selfish and short-sighted. But, after I decrypted your messages to Leanna, I may have read a few.'

'You did?'

'It was kinda hard not to _, Snuggle Bear_.' Bozer laughed sheepishly, as Riley continued. 'And the parts that didn't make me want to throw up were actually really sweet.'

'So you're not gonna turn me in?'

Riley smiled.

'I don't have to turn you in, because you're never gonna get caught.' She held out her hand. 'Let me see your phone.' Bozer handed it over. 'I built you guys a way more encrypted app. Completely undetectable on the Phoenix network.' She handed him back his phone. 'Which means this conversation right here never happened.'

Bozer smiled widely, completely and utterly overcome with emotion, with gratefulness. He reached out and pulled Riley into a very, very tight and very enthusiastic hug.

'Riley. Riley! Thank you, Riley.'

She hugged him back (almost) as tightly and enthusiastically.

* * *

 **3 AM**

* * *

Fast asleep, Mac turned over, seemingly a little restless.

Even when he was asleep, the cogs in his brain never really completely ceased to turn…and memories that his conscious self chose not to dwell on came to the surface…

* * *

Face burning with rejection and humiliation, fourteen-year-old Mac hightailed it out of his Chemistry classroom, supremely grateful that he'd chosen the end of the last period of the day to fulfil the forfeit of the bet he'd made with Bozer, heading to the nearest janitor's closet. He picked the lock with a paperclip without even thinking about it and stepped inside, closing the door behind him and plonking himself down on an overturned bucket.

 _You're supposed to be a genius, MacGyver._

 _Darlene's the prettiest girl in the school. She's popular, really popular, and two years older than you._

 _Of course she was only nice to you so that you'd do all the work in Chem class, and all of her homework too._

 _Of course she doesn't actually like you. You're you._

There was a knock on the closet door.

'Mac, bro? I know you're in there…' Bozer sounded very, very guilty. 'I'm really, really sorry, bro, I thought she really did like you, 'cause you're _you…'_

* * *

'…Wait…am I now you and Bozer's mutual ex-girlfriend?'

Mac's rather sad expression (even if he agreed with her that they were far better off as friends and that they probably only loved each other as friends, he was still sad that they hadn't worked out) lightened somewhat at Penny's comment, and he gave a little smile and a snort of laughter.

* * *

As they worked on one of her projects in the lab (Mac's own science needed to breathe…and he really, really liked spending time with Frankie; she was so incredibly brilliant and also incredibly gorgeous and they spoke the same language and she loved Mobius strips and…well, he was always happy to play her assistant), Frankie's phone buzzed with a reminder, and she glanced over the project, then put the electrodes she was holding back onto the bench.

'Okay, boy genius, we've got to call it a day.' She held up her phone. 'I've got a Valentine's Day date to get ready for, and you've got plans, right?'

Mac toyed with his Swiss Army knife as he finished tightening the last screw.

'Uh…yeah. No. Maybe. Kinda?'

 _I'm not sure that working on a non-faculty-approved experiment in a corner of the Tombs that even most of the regulars don't know how to get into with a pepperoni pizza and a pint of rocky road counts as Valentine's Day plans, but those are my plans._

 _As you can see, I am not good at plans._

Frankie raised an eyebrow at him, looking, unusually for her, a bit bemused, then shrugged.

'Well, have fun, Mac.'

'You too!'

He cursed himself for how unnaturally high (and just plain unnatural) his voice sounded, but Frankie, at least, didn't seem to notice as she made some last checks, then slipped off her lab coat and hung it over the back of a chair.

'Catch you later, boy genius. Thanks for your help!'

'Anytime!'

He watched as she left the lab, trusting him to not steal her ideas or sabotage her work and to secure everything properly for her when he left.

Mac sighed.

* * *

'Allie? What are you doing?'

At 8:27 AM (he didn't usually sleep in that late, but he'd spent a good portion of the night awake…and using a lot of energy), Mac, a little bleary-eyed, sat up in bed, letting the covers slip down to his waist, leaving his chest bare, and stared at the woman wearing his shirt, sitting at the little hotel room desk in front of his laptop, which was displaying the schematics for the JPL entry into the Korman Challenge.

Allie froze, caught red-handed.

 _She's extremely intelligent. She's also beautiful, confident…and has a competitive streak several miles wide._

 _I'm an idiot for falling for it._

* * *

Mac, holding a bottle of wine and standing beside a bunch of dropped flowers (they were supposed to be a surprise gift; he'd taken the afternoon off despite the fact that he was working on a very important project, because it was the third anniversary of the day that he and Nikki had first met), stared at his now-presumably-ex-girlfriend in her apartment, resolutely ignoring the other man sitting on the couch with her.

(He vaguely recognized him as one of Nikki's co-workers at Google.)

They'd practically flown apart guiltily when Mac had let himself in with the key she'd given him.

He willed himself not to cry. Not in front of them. Not in front of her.

'Was it all a lie?'

* * *

'This isn't working out, Mac.'

Mac, who'd been lost in his thoughts, trying to pin down why this third date felt _off (_ they'd had two really good dates, but something was just not _right_ tonight), gave Cindy a sheepish little smile, biting his lip.

'It isn't, is it?'

She nodded, then shrugged.

'Ah well, we tried. It's a shame, though; you're really good at escape rooms.'

He managed a near-chuckle.

'Sorry for ruining your perfect record for nothing.'

'It wasn't for nothing; I had fun.'

'So did I.'

They sat there in the diner awkwardly for a moment, before Cindy got up.

'See you around, Mac.'

He smiled and waved at her, hoping that it didn't look as awkward as it felt.

'See you, Cindy.'

She walked out of the diner and left him there to finish his pie.

Dating was weird, and hard.

* * *

Mac and Jack, dressed in black suits with dark shirts and ties, sat at a little table in the corner of the ice-cream store.

The older man raised his ice-cream cone (rocky road, even though it wasn't Jack's usual order) to Mac's (also rocky road, of course) in a toast of sorts.

'To Zoe.'

Mac swallowed the lump in his throat.

'To Zoe.'

* * *

 **4 AM**

 **RILEY'S RESIDENCE**

* * *

As she lay in bed sleeping, Riley's expression shifted into something plaintive, vulnerable, as her imagination kicked into overdrive…

* * *

'Riley, come with me.'

Bozer was lying on the floor of a high-tech lab, bleeding from a stab wound in his abdomen as she applied pressure (more pressure than she thought was appropriate, as per Mac's instructions) to the wound.

She glanced up at the very short brunette woman who was standing near the door, who'd spoken.

Matty, Bozer's boss.

(And her boss, apparently.)

'I don't want to leave him.'

* * *

Riley, a little shaken, but very, very relieved, reached out and hugged Bozer as the fake Zodiac Killer was taken away. He hugged her back just as tightly.

'Riley, I'm glad you're safe.'

It was completely genuine, no flirtatious undertone or innuendo, just pure and simple relief, relief that someone who mattered, whom you cared about, was okay.

It was _real._

The _real_ Bozer.

She chuckled.

'Me too. Heard I have your keen skills of observation to thank.'

Bozer seemed a little flustered, sheepish, at that.

'Uh, well, you know, learning to be a spy, I've just been practicing my-'

That made Riley smile wider.

Real Bozer was awesome. And pretty cute.

'It's all good, Bozer. Seriously. Thanks.'

* * *

Riley sat in a van, surrounded by computer screens displaying satellite imagery of what looked like half of a state forest.

However, they did not show what she was looking for (or, rather, the two people she was looking for), despite her best efforts.

Bozer, sitting beside her, put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently.

'Hey, they're gonna be okay, Riley. Mac's smarter than Einstein, and Jack's more badass than, like, two John McClanes. They're gonna be okay.'

* * *

Riley, lying with her back on the ground, stared at Bozer, who was on top of her, having tackled her to the ground as something exploded behind them, saving her from what would have probably been a really nasty injury.

'Are you okay?'

She nodded.

'You're on fire.'

Bozer, being Bozer, smirked.

'I know, right? That was pretty dope of me. Move over, Liam Neeson, the B-O-Z-'

If the situation was less serious, she would have face-palmed.

'Bozer, you're on fire! You're _on fire_!'

'Huh?' He finally seemed to realize that she meant it literally, and screamed like a little girl, then rolled off her and on the ground to put out the flames. Then, he looked up, looking a little sheepish and rather hopeful, almost pleading. 'Any chance we can pretend that last part didn't happen?'

* * *

 **5 AM**

 **JACK'S RESIDENCE**

* * *

Sound asleep, Jack tugged the spare pillow on his bed closer, grinning as he dreamed that almost all of his dreams had come true…

* * *

Jack sat in one of his La-Z-Boys, wearing his Cowboys jersey, his Cowboys baseball cap and his Cowboys giant foam hand, cheering like mad as the clock ran down and the Cowboys won the Superbowl.

He whooped loudly and tossed his Cowboys baseball cap into the air, revealing his much-receded and very-much-threaded-with-grey hair.

Sitting on his couch was Riley, her hair cut to shoulder-length, and there was a little girl of about six with dark curls, toffee-coloured skin and Riley's eyes curled into her side. Both mother and daughter were wearing Cowboys regalia, though the little girl wore a full get-up, while Riley had only a baseball cap.

On the other side of the little girl was a blue-eyed, blonde boy of about the same age with a startling resemblance to Mac, enthusiastically setting off the Cowboys Cheering Contraption he'd made with some help from his dad (it said 'Go Cowboys!' in five different voices and fired off appropriately-coloured streamers and confetti, but no glitter – that had been vetoed by his mother), while Mac himself sat on the other La-Z-Boy, grinning proudly at his son, with his three-year-old, brown-eyed, dirty-blonde daughter in his lap, the little girl clapping eagerly and excitedly, though Jack wasn't quite sure, despite the little Cowboys cheerleader dress she was wearing, if that was for the Cowboys' victory or her brother's contraption.

Bozer, wearing a Cowboys apron, was in the kitchen prepping some 'victory-celebrating snacks', enthusiastically describing the bacon-wrapped hotdogs and bacon-and-egg-baskets and maple-bacon cupcakes and chocolate-coated bacon that he was preparing.

Diane, who was perched on the arm of his La-Z-Boy, snuggled closer to Jack, nudging him to move over a bit to make more room for her with a hip, then grabbed his Cowboys baseball cap and jammed it over her curls, kissing his cheek with an unrepentant little smile in apology.

* * *

 **6 AM**

 **MACGYVER'S RESIDENCE**

* * *

Mac woke up two minutes before his alarm went off, sat up in bed, stretched, then tossed the covers off and got up.

 _Valentine's Day or not, it's still also Wednesday. I run every weekday morning._

 _Besides, I always feel better after a run._

 _Endorphins are great._

He walked over to his closet and grabbed his running shoes and a pair of basketball shorts (he'd wear the MIT T-shirt he'd worn to bed for his run; he'd have to shower and change afterwards anyway).

* * *

Mac walked quietly through his house, to the front door, being careful not to wake Bozer, whom he knew would still be asleep.

He stepped outside, closed the door carefully, and took a deep breath of fresh air, before setting off at a jog towards his favourite running track.

* * *

 **7 AM**

* * *

Fresh out of the shower, Mac, dressed in his usual chinos and button-down shirt (today's chinos were olive, while the shirt was navy-blue), running a hand through his damp hair, walked out of the bathroom. A still-bleary-eyed Bozer was in the kitchen, wearing an apron over his pyjamas, sipping from a mug of coffee.

He was also mixing up his world-class waffle batter, and there was a heart-shaped waffle iron on the counter.

Mac's best friend grinned at him as he walked into the kitchen and handed the blonde a mug of coffee, black with two sugars, exactly how Mac liked it.

'Happy Valentine's Day, bro. Love you.'

Mac grinned back at him, bumping his fist to Bozer's to start their secret handshake from when they were kids.

'Love you too, Boze.' He sipped his coffee, which was amazing, as always. Bozer made excellent coffee. Despite his best efforts, Mac had never been able to quite get the 'automatic' mode he'd installed on their coffee maker to match it. 'Happy Valentine's Day.'

* * *

 **8 AM**

 **RILEY'S RESIDENCE**

* * *

As they dug into a breakfast of French toast (a favourite of both of theirs, and one of the very first things that Riley had asked Bozer to teach her how to make, his way – French toast was one of the very few things that Riley had known how to cook beforehand, which she would neither confirm nor deny was a result of it being one of the approximately four things that Jack had known how to cook when she was a girl, but Bozer made it far, far better than she – or Jack - ever had), Diane smiled knowingly and pointedly at her daughter across Riley's little dining table.

'I know what you're doing, baby girl.'

Diane had always, always known her daughter very, very well. Could read her like a book.

Riley had tried to lie to her mom many, many times (she'd had a very rebellious phase, getting up to non-mother-approved activities ranging from getting her belly button pierced to hacking into the Pentagon), but had succeeded only a few times.

However, ever since she'd gotten a second chance and gotten out of prison, Riley had resolved to turn over a new leaf, at least somewhat.

(She was never going to change who she was, at heart. She was always going to snark, she was always going to be into hacking and coding, she was always going to have a fondness for leather jackets and slightly 'edgy' fashion, and she was going to have colourfully painted nails and multiple piercings in her ears no matter what some of her colleagues at JPL thought.)

But she was done dating 'bad boys' who, she realized in hindsight, didn't truly respect her, or other people, for that matter.

She was done doing black-hat work.

And she was going to stop trying to lie to her mom.

Now, a little denial here wouldn't really be lying, not truly.

It'd be a bit like lying about someone's surprise birthday party, which any reasonable person had to think was perfectly okay.

(Even Boy Scouts like Mac.)

But Riley knew it was pointless, and she'd given Jack the truth, it was only fair to give her mom it as well.

'I don't think you ever completely fell out of love with Jack, Mom. And now you two could have a second chance…'

Diane was silent, introspective, for a moment, recalling what had happened two Christmases ago, when she'd come to LA from Vancouver to visit Riley her first Christmas out of prison, after The Collective had been taken down, thanks to D.A. Patricia Thornton.

 _Sitting in Mac's dining room, the two of them alone, as he finished his explanation and apology, Diane leaned over and kissed Jack on the cheek, smiling as he froze in shock._

She smiled at her daughter over their breakfast, repeating those same words she'd told Jack that Christmas.

'Maybe it's not too late.'

* * *

AN: The dream sequences were so much fun to write (well, maybe except Mac's, which were really sad…)! Jack/bacon seems to be a pretty popular ship (shout-out to deepandlovelydark, who has the same OTP :P); hey, any fandom has its shipping wars, surely, but I'm sure we can all agree on Mac/paperclips, Mac/duct-tape, Bozer/pastrami, Bozer/movies, Bozer/burgers, Riley/her rig, Riley/her leather jackets, Jack/bacon and Jack/Cowboys, right?

Oh, and I forgot to put this in last time (sorry!) – I can take no credit for most of the charades scene and Jack and Riley's little chat while they were getting refills (most of the dialogue is taken from the show), nor can I take credit for most of Bozer and Riley's dreams (those are also from the show!).


	3. Chapter 3

**9 AM**

 **JPL**

* * *

Mac walked past Riley's office as he headed to the labs where he (mostly) worked, and popped in to say 'hi'.

'Morning, Riley.'

The former black-hat, who was sipping coffee as her computer started up, smiled at him.

'Morning, Mac.' Her smile grew a little bit more Cheshire cat. 'How's your morning been?'

Mac shook his head with an affectionately exasperated little smile, knowing that Riley's question was dual-purpose.

Firstly, she was checking in with him about his mood regarding Valentine's Day.

Secondly, she knew perfectly well what Bozer's 'surprise' that morning had been (which wasn't much of a surprise; Bozer had made Mac heart-shaped waffles for Valentine's Day every single year that they'd been in the same city since Mac was thirteen).

'It's been pretty great. And really delicious.'

As he finished speaking, Riley's phone said 'Action!' in a very dramatic fashion, like a film director might.

(That was Bozer's custom text tone on Riley's phone – Mac's was an explosion, Jack's was a Wookie howl.)

Riley's smile widened a little as she picked up the phone, laughed and then started typing out a reply.

* * *

As Mac, after saying his goodbyes to Riley, headed towards the labs, he pulled a paperclip out of his pocket, which rapidly took the shape of a question mark.

 _I'll be the first to admit that I'm not so good at reading social situations._

 _But I know Boze, and I know Riley, and I think I can read them pretty decently…_

Mac was well aware of the not-so-little crush that Bozer had had on Riley when they'd first met.

 _I think even a blind and deaf man would have been aware of that._

He was also well aware of the very necessary kick up the ass Jack had given Bozer.

Ever since, despite the occasional backslide by his best friend (which Mac understood – bad habits died hard, and more importantly, it was definitely hard, when you had feelings for someone, to ensure that those feelings didn't get in the way of your friendship; he'd experienced that for himself during his MIT days – and he suspected Riley got that too, and/or was simply willing to forgive Bozer those backslides because she knew his heart was in the right place and he was trying very hard to _not_ let those feelings, those hopes, get in the way of their friendship), Bozer and Riley had gotten progressively closer and closer.

He knew that that didn't necessarily mean anything.

 _I, of all people, should know that being really, really close to someone does not mean that you're romantically involved with them._

But the read he was getting on their relationship, his gut instincts, told him that there might be something there. A slowly-growing something. Potential.

 _I mean, I shop for clothes only out of necessity, and I'm much more into improving video game consoles and controllers than playing them, but I like a good burger or taco or cheesesteak or donut as much as the next person, and I never get invited along…_

* * *

 **10 AM**

 **FBI OFFICES**

* * *

As Matty walked through the office, she passed by Bozer's desk, and, being Matty, noted the R2-D2 chime that the forensic accountant's phone emitted, and the almost-goofy grin that that triggered, and how he practically pounced on his phone and started texting back, that grin firmly on his face, even widening and growing even goofier.

Interesting, she thought, as she kept walking towards the meeting room that was her destination.

Matty made it her business to know what her employees got up to on the FBI's dime.

She understood, with the long hours that they all worked, that sometimes, what they got up to would be personal and not business.

That was okay with her as long as personal stuff didn't start to interfere with business stuff.

She knew that the R2-D2 text tone person on Bozer's phone was a former black-hat named Riley who worked for JPL, and that Bozer had had a massive crush on her when they'd first met.

Matty had thought that Bozer's crush was completely and utterly unrequited, that there was nothing really there and that it was all in his head; he was projecting because he had really high hopes for what he and Riley could be.

Now, given what she was seeing, had been seeing over the last few months (like the frequency of those text tones, or Bozer being picked up by Riley after work from time to time, or him cheerily telling a colleague about them grabbing some kind of hip food or shopping or playing some video game on the weekend), and her finely-honed gut instincts, she had to revise that a little.

Maybe Bozer hadn't been making something out of nothing.

Maybe it was more accurately described as him making a mountain out of a relatively large molehill.

Either way, that didn't completely matter, not now, because based on what she was seeing now, there was now something at least hillock-sized there.

* * *

 **11 AM**

* * *

 **I can take an extended lunch today; how about I pop by around 1:30 with your fave Kobe beef burgers? :)**

* * *

 **You, Miss Riley Davis, are AMAZINGLY AWESOME! :D :D :D**

* * *

 **12 PM**

 **MAMA COLTON'S DINER**

* * *

There was a petite woman with light brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and wearing light-blue scrubs in the carpark of Mac's favourite diner (conveniently located five minutes' walk from JPL), bent over the open hood of a blue Toyota Yaris, examining the engine and muttering to herself in a frustrated and worried tone.

 _I really, really like solving problems to help people._

 _In fact, as Jack can tell you, sometimes, I forget to ask permission to do it in the first place. That's gotten me into trouble twenty-five times over the course of my almost-twenty-seven years._

 _Besides, my grandfather would have my hide if I didn't help out a damsel in distress._

Mac walked over to the unfortunate Yaris owner, and smiled and waved somewhat awkwardly.

'Hi, I'm Angus MacGyver, I'm an engineer at JPL and I think I can fix your car.' He paused, as the very young woman (she looked to be in her mid-twenties at most) looked up at him. She had brown eyes and was, an admittedly-not-so-little voice in his brain noted, extremely pretty. She also had a little smudge of grease on her cheek, which was honestly adorable and oddly appealing. Mac held his hands up, pushing away those thoughts. The fact that he found this medical professional with a broken-down car attractive was irrelevant. 'I'm not a serial killer, I promise.'

She raised her eyebrows, but gave a little laugh nonetheless.

'I think I have to point out that that is probably what a serial killer would say.' He chuckled and nodded. 'But I'd be very, very grateful if you could try.' She gestured to the engine of her car. 'I think it's a problem with the oil pump…'

Mac had already started examining the engine as soon as she'd said she'd be grateful if he tried, and he'd come to that conclusion just as she said the word 'with'. He glanced at her, surprised.

 _I'm assuming that, given her attire, she could probably fix me up, but an engine?_

She gave a slightly-awkward half-shrug and smiled.

'My dad's an engineer, I've spent quite a lot of time around people who are intimately familiar with combustion engines, Mr MacGyver.' Her expression grew very sheepish and awkward as she seemed to realize that she hadn't introduced herself. 'Oh, sorry, I'm Beth, Dr Beth Taylor.'

She made as if to shake his hand, but then quickly withdrew her hand, realizing that her fingers were grease-stained, cheeks flushing a little.

Mac simply smiled a little wider.

 _I don't mind a bit of grease, and honestly, it won't make much of a difference; I'm going to have greasy hands soon enough._

'Call me Mac, Mr MacGyver was my dad.'

* * *

'That is amazing.' Beth glanced between her now-repaired oil pump and Mac, a broad, eager smile on her face. The smile shifted a little into something very grateful. 'Thanks.'

Mac just smiled back, just as widely, and gestured to the little fix he'd put together. It wasn't a permanent fix; Beth would need to take her car in for repairs, but it'd hold it together for a few days.

 _I like fixing things. I like helping people._

 _But I enjoyed that more than I usually do._

 _And no, not because she's beautiful._

 _Well, okay, not just._

 _Most of the time – there are twenty-five notable exceptions – people are happy when I fix or improve their stuff, but almost all of the time, they're not too interested in the how._

 _This was one of those very notable and very pleasant exceptions._

'Not my first time doing that; it won me my twelfth science fair when I was fifteen.'

'Impressive, I only ever managed nine.' Beth paused for a moment. 'I really do owe you…' She gestured towards the diner. 'Can I buy you, I don't know, a sandwich and/or a milkshake and/or some pie in thanks?'

Mac closed the hood of her car, smile widening.

'Mama Colton makes incredible pie.'

She lit up in a way that was adorably ridiculous and ridiculously adorable, then smiled sheepishly as she locked her car, cheeks pinking slightly.

'I have an irrational love for pie.' She paused, then looked a little more sheepish. 'Pun unintended.' Mac laughed, as Beth pulled a tube of hand lotion out of her handbag, as well as some tissues. She squeezed some hand lotion onto the tissues, then offered him the tube of lotion. 'We should probably get rid of the grease first. I don't think Mama Colton would be very happy if we got grease all over her menus or cutlery or a table.'

He chuckled again, shaking his head, taking the tube of hand lotion and squeezing some onto his handkerchief as she started wiping her hands with the tissues.

'Oh, you have no idea, Beth.' Mama Colton could be really, really terrifying. He paused and gestured to his left cheek. 'And, uh, you've got a bit there.'

* * *

'What's your specialty?'

The two of them sat opposite one another in a booth by the window, Mac eating a club sandwich, Beth a chicken salad sandwich. They also had two slices of Mama's buttermilk pie in front of them.

(Mac was studiously ignoring the _looks_ that Mama Colton kept shooting him. Or, more accurately, the two of them.)

(He was grateful that Mama was timing them excellently; he was quite sure Beth hadn't noticed.)

'Emergency medicine. I'm an attending physician at Huntington.' She examined him for a moment over the top of the half of a sandwich she was holding, as if she was trying to weigh up whether or not he was going to make a comment about her being really young for being an attending physician. She seemed to be leaning very heavily towards no, which Mac thought really wasn't surprising, given that he was on the young side for a JPL engineer _and_ young-looking to boot. He simply took a somewhat-exaggerated bite of his sandwich, an understanding look on his face. Beth smiled. 'You get brownie points for not making a Doogie Howser joke, though I suppose you really wouldn't, given…'

She trailed off and gestured to him a little awkwardly, biting her lip.

Mac swallowed his mouthful of sandwich, smiling.

'Well, I've never gotten a Doogie Howser joke, but I've gotten more than my share of Jimmy Neutron ones…'

* * *

 **1 PM**

* * *

Eating lunch took far longer than it usually did, since they'd had a near-constant stream of enthusiastic conversation, trading several amusing anecdotes: he'd told her about his pancake-making toaster from his MIT days, she'd told him about how one of her mom's students (her mom was a chemistry professor) had dyed the ceiling of a disused lecture theatre blue, he'd told the tale of his DIY vacuum-cleaner-kiddie-pool-hot-tub, which had led to her narrowing her eyes at him and asking if he'd electrocuted himself while making it (which he had, though not badly, as he'd assured her), having an interesting discussion regarding alternatives to titanium for medical implants (Mac now had a recommendation for a paper that she thought he'd like, which he'd definitely be reading when he got the chance), and they'd even traded stories about their respective Prom Nights (why they'd gotten onto that topic, Mac wasn't sure); it turned out that hers wasn't all that dissimilar from the night he'd spent watching a live shuttle launch on TV; she'd spent hers watching _Mythbusters_ and eating pie with her parents.

(Mac wasn't all that sure _why_ he'd even told her that story – it was, for obvious reasons, not one that he liked to share with people, especially attractive women whom he'd just met. But he thought it probably had to do with the fact that they were obviously birds of a feather; she'd finished high school at sixteen too, and he was a genius, he could read between the lines and knew very well, empirically, what that meant, and besides, even if they'd just met, he simply felt comfortable around her.)

Once they'd finished eating, Beth glanced at her phone, eyes widening a bit when she noticed the time, as if it was much later than she thought it was. Like time had flown past them. She pulled out her wallet, narrowing her eyes at Mac (who'd moved to pull out some cash to pay for his own lunch – he didn't help people for any kind of reward), something fiercely insistent and determined in her eyes and the tilt of her chin which made a voice in his head tell him to listen to her. He smiled, shaking his head, and held up his hands. She put enough cash on the table to cover their lunch and the tip, then smiled apologetically at him.

'I'm sorry, but I have to go, and you probably need to go back to work…' Mac nodded, a wry little smile on his face. He could get away with an extended lunch hour, since he worked so much unpaid overtime and tended to take very short lunches, but he knew that two hours was probably pushing it. 'Thanks again for fixing my car.' Beth gave a slightly-awkward half-shrug, smile becoming shy, cheeks pinking a touch. 'And it was really nice to meet you, Mac.'

He smiled back.

'No problem. Thanks for lunch, Beth, and for the company.'

They both sat there, staring at each other, for a long and slightly awkward moment (Mac's ears burned under his hair, her cheeks seemed to get pinker), then she got up and waved.

'Uh…I'll see you around?'

He really wanted to ask for her number.

But he restrained himself; they'd just met entirely by chance, and what if he was completely misinterpreting what he thought was mutual interest, the starting point of a _connection_?

After all, she could just be friendly and grateful.

(Besides, maybe he was old-fashioned, but he thought it was a bit weird and creepy to ask a woman for her phone number after one encounter.)

He really, really didn't want to be _that_ guy.

Besides, Mac had never actually just asked a woman for her number (he'd very, very rarely made the first move, actually), and the thought was making him oddly nervous.

 _Yeah, I know, I used to disarm bombs for a living…but I maintain that this might actually be scarier._

 _Dating is weird._

 _At least bombs make sense._

He waved, probably a little awkwardly.

'See you.'

* * *

As the door swung shut behind Beth and Mac drained the last of his glass of water, Mama Colton resisted the urge to go and scold some sense into the engineer.

Mac was a great kid and one of her favourite regulars, and she knew he was a genius who was apparently smarter than Einstein, according to the JPL gossip she'd heard, but he could clearly be really, really stupid.

* * *

 **2 PM**

 **FBI OFFICES**

* * *

After they finished eating their burgers, Riley and Bozer slid off the trunk of Bozer's car (they were getting funny looks from some of Bozer's co-workers for sitting on the trunk of his sky-blue and mint-green vintage car in the carpark while eating burgers, but they both ignored the looks).

Bozer held his arms up for a hug, and Riley obliged, then started making her way back towards her car, walking backwards as he waved.

'See you tonight!'

Riley put her hands on her hips.

'My outfit's gonna be better than yours!'

Bozer affected an affronted expression.

'Don't count your chickens before they hatch!' He almost-pouted. 'And that's not a fair competition! You know I gotta help Mac and Jack, and you know how they're lost style causes!'

Riley crossed her arms and smirked teasingly at him.

'Hey, you're the one whose always talking up his makeover credentials; if you're gonna talk the talk, you've got to walk the walk, Bozer!'

She tossed her hair over her shoulder in an exaggerated manner, and got into her car to drive back to JPL.

Bozer watched her go, arms crossed, a teasing and affectionate and probably-goofy grin on his face.

He had always, always found Riley very attractive, and he was sure he always would.

(He – like everyone else, he was convinced – had a type. She happened to be that type.)

(Gorgeous, hyper-competent, confident, sassy…and he admitted that he probably had a bit of a thing for women who would barely give him the time of day when they first met.)

He also thought that Riley was definitely, definitely special, and that wasn't a line, not nearly.

He'd always found her special, even when they'd first met, and he thought he always would.

He admitted that it was physical at first (Riley was _smoking,_ after all) but as he'd gotten to know her, that attraction, that pull, he felt had grown and far surpassed that initial attraction to her looks.

Riley was brilliant. She was amazingly sassy and snarky and sarcastic and stylish, and they liked the same video games, and she was tough-as-nails and incredibly strong and she loved those she considered family fiercely and protectively, and she'd gone to _prison_ for her mom and survived things that would have given him nightmares for _months_ and come out even stronger for them.

But Jack had been right, 100% right.

His friendship with Riley was too valuable to risk.

 _Especially_ for a rebound.

* * *

 **3 PM**

 **DALTON AUTO REPAIR**

* * *

Jack finished locking up his garage and got into his car, turning the key in the ignition.

He didn't usually close at 3, of course. Usually, his shop closed at 5.

But tonight, he was closing early, because he was going to a party that night.

Well, he, Mac, Bozer, Riley and Diane were going to a charity gala that night.

When he and Mac had come home for good, Mac had started working with the Phoenix Foundation, a charity run by the CEO of a biomedical engineering firm who was a very talented biomedical engineer himself that sought to help amputees, people who relied on dialysis, the deaf and others who needed medical technology to survive or live their lives to the fullest, in a practical way by improving the tech they needed and improving their access to the tech.

Mac, being an Army vet and an engineer, had, of course, identified particularly strongly with their cause, and pulled Bozer, Riley and Jack into helping.

(Bozer's skill with prostheses had been of great assistance, while Riley had written many useful programs for the Phoenix, and while Jack couldn't handle any of the tech stuff, he helped out as best as he could by just spending time talking to and listening to some of the vets that the Phoenix helped.)

Their annual fundraiser gala was tonight (apparently, when they'd been planning it, the committee of mostly-engineers who ran the Phoenix had completely forgotten about it being Valentine's Day until after they'd booked the venue), and, of course, they were all going to support the great cause.

Which meant Jack had to go home, have a shower, then head to Mac's to get dressed so that Bozer could make any last-minute changes to the outfit that he and Riley had organized for him.

(Bozer and Riley had _insisted_ on taking stylistic control of Mac and Jack's outfits for the gala.)

(Jack was pretty sure he could resist Hurricane Bozer, and Hurricane Riley. Maybe.)

(But Hurricane Bozer-and-Riley?)

(He and Mac hadn't stood a chance.)

* * *

AN: Silly text tones, a very MacGyver meet-cute and a Mama Colton cameo? I'm happy with that, hope you are too!


	4. Chapter 4

**4 PM**

 **RILEY'S RESIDENCE**

* * *

Riley was silent and lost in thought as she, dressed in a comfy robe, started straightening her hair in preparation for curling it into large, bouncy curls.

(The Phoenix Foundation Gala was 50s themed this year; 50s hairstyles were a lot of work, but she was pretty sure the overall look would be worth it.)

A soft little smile appeared on her face as she worked her straightener through her hair, lost in memories from her impromptu lunch with Bozer.

Sometime between the night before and now, she'd realized that she might just have feelings for Bozer, the _real_ Bozer, the Bozer who'd been her friend and _just_ a friend.

Riley snorted at her reflection in the mirror as she pulled the straightener over another lock of hair.

'Like ships in the night.'

At that moment, just as Riley spoke, her mom, also dressed in a robe, stepped out of the bathroom and glanced at Riley, putting all the pieces of the puzzle together instantly.

(It wasn't hard; she knew her daughter so very well, and Riley had told her all about her lunch with Bozer, and she'd heard all the little shouts of 'Action!' that Riley's phone kept giving, plus she'd been there for charades the night before, and they'd had plenty of mother-daughter talks over the last couple of years, during which they'd kept very little from each other.)

She walked up to her daughter, who'd put down the straightener for a moment, and gently put her hands on Riley's shoulders. Diane gave a knowing, comforting little smile.

'Maybe it's not too late, sweetie.' Riley looked up at her mom, a little flicker of surprise crossing her face for a moment, before changing to an _of course you know_ look, then turning hopeful. 'I, of all people, should know that you can let someone go and move on, but that sometimes, those feelings don't ever completely disappear, or they can be rekindled.' Diane's smile grew a little more wry, and she dropped a kiss on the top of Riley's head. 'You understand that, baby girl.'

Riley, after a long moment of contemplation, smiled and nodded.

'Thanks, Mom.'

Diane smiled back, then let go of Riley's shoulders and sat down on her bed, while Riley picked up her hair straightener again, glancing at her black, cherry-print swing dress, hanging in her closet next to her mom's emerald-green one.

She knew that Bozer was not ready for a new relationship just yet, not so soon after Leanna.

She also knew that, even though she was now quite confident that there really was (or could be, perhaps more accurately) something there between them, that it still needed some time to grow.

And, most importantly, they absolutely could not rush into this, especially given their history.

Their friendship was far, far too valuable to risk by rushing.

But she thought that testing the waters a bit, taking a baby step or two, just to confirm that there really, really could be something more than friendship there, was wise.

Her dress was practically made for dancing.

And Bozer had moves.

(Well, dance moves, anyway.)

(Other moves, not so much.)

(But she wouldn't have him any other way.)

* * *

 **5 PM**

 **MACGYVER'S RESIDENCE**

* * *

As they sat on the couch in the living room, dressed and awaiting inspection by Bozer (Mac was wearing brown leather boots, Levi's, a tight-fitting white T-shirt and his favourite brown leather jacket, his hair greased up at the top and slicked down the sides, while Jack was a 50s gangster in a black three-piece pinstriped suit and a matching hat), who was, being Bozer, taking longer to get ready than they had, Mac turned to Jack and spoke casually.

 _Far_ too casually.

'You and Diane looked like you were having fun last night.'

Jack scoffed and flung his hands in the air, shaking his head with exasperated fondness, a matching little grin breaking through on his face.

'You kids really are going all _Parent Trap_ on us, aren't you?' Then, Jack's expression grew more serious, as he stared at the fireplace grate, looking into the distance, or, probably more accurately, the past. His voice softened and took on far more than a hint of regret. 'It can take a man years to realize he's made a mistake.' He looked over at the younger man. 'Diane's…she's skipping around my head a bit, has been all day. And I'm a little terrified, okay, more than a little terrified, of screwing it up again, 'cause I always screw it up, and I finally got Riley back in my life and I…I can't lose her…but I'm kind of ready to see where that might go, you know what I mean?'

Mac smiled and nodded, reaching up to put a hand on Jack's shoulder.

'Yeah.' He squeezed Jack's shoulder, seeking out the older man's eyes. 'And I don't think you're going to screw it up.' As best as Mac knew and understood, Jack _now_ was a bit different from Jack _then_. He'd gained a little more life experience and learned from his past mistake, and he was no longer scared of what he'd come to mean to Riley, no longer scared of being a father, as he had more faith in his abilities in that area, in no small part thanks to Riley herself and their reconciliation. Mac gestured between the two of them. 'I mean, you haven't screwed this up all these years.' Jack smiled, soft and affectionate, and after a moment of returning that smile, Mac's expression grew more wry. 'And I don't think Riley and Diane will let you screw it up.' Jack gave a snort of laughter, nodding, and Mac squeezed his shoulder again, seeking out his eyes again and looking serious once more. 'You're a really good man, Jack.'

Jack reached out and clasped Mac's shoulder, a smile on his face and affection and love in his eyes.

'Takes one to know one, son.'

* * *

'Mac, bro, _why_ have you got grease under your nails? I thought you were working on simulations all day! Sure, you're a greaser, but that doesn't refer to _actual_ grease!'

As Bozer, dressed in a smart purple plaid sport jacket, with grey dress pants and a crisp white shirt and a purple plaid hat, inspected his BFF, after already having passed Jack, he zeroed in on the tiny bit of grease that was still stuck under Mac's nails.

(Bozer had a great eye for detail.)

'I, uh, fixed a woman's car during my lunch break.'

He kicked himself for how that came out.

Jack and Bozer immediately exchanged a glance, looking far too much like sharks who'd scented blood for Mac's peace of mind, clearly reading a lot into that single sentence.

 _To be fair, they're probably not wrong._

'Was she cute, bro?'

'Did your broken-down damsel-in-distress swoon when she got rescued by a knight-in-a-leather-jacket?'

Mac and Bozer both shot Jack a _look._

 _Jack's analogies are generally as bad as his puns._

Mac sighed.

'Her name's Beth, she's an ER doctor at Huntington and she's twenty-six.' He couldn't help the soft little smile that appeared on his face. 'She's beautiful and very intelligent and appreciates fine engineering, and she bought me lunch at Mama's as a thank-you.'

'And?'

'Come on, bro, finish the story!'

… _And you have just made it worse for yourself. Good job, MacGyver._

'Uh…that is the end of the story.'

Bozer face-palmed and started muttering about how you tried so hard to raise them right. Jack flung his hands in the air and muttered something about how the occasional people who mistook Mac for his actual son were obviously idiots, because no son of his would be this hopeless.

'Brother, you had one of those honest-to-God rom-com meet-cutes with a woman who's making you look all besotted-'

'I did _not_ look-'

'You totally did, bro.'

'-And you didn't even ask her for your number? You're a genius; how can you be so _dumb_ , man?'

Bozer pointed at Jack.

'We can fix this; how many ER doctors called Beth can there be at Huntington? All we gotta do is ask Riley to-'

'Boze, you are _not_ getting Riley to find her contact details; that's just creepy.'

Bozer glanced at Jack, who looked to be in two minds, but eventually nodded and gestured at the blonde.

'Yeah, I think I'm gonna have to go with Mac on this one, Bozer.'

Mac shrugged and sighed rather regretfully, resisting the temptation to run his hand through his hair. It was full of hair product, so it wouldn't be very pleasant, and if he messed it up, Bozer would be all over him.

'She really liked Mama's pie…' That was an understatement. '…and I'm often at Mama's; the odds of us running into each other again are pretty decent.'

 _It took Jack years to realize he'd made a mistake._

 _It's taken me a few hours to realize that I've made one._

 _I should have asked Beth for her number._

 _If we do run into each other again, I definitely will._

 _I promise._

* * *

 **6 PM**

 **PHOENIX FOUNDATION GALA**

* * *

'You look pretty awesome.'

Riley grinned at Bozer as they walked into the ballroom, and Bozer grinned right back at her.

'So do you.' He smirked. 'Almost as awesome as yours truly!' He pretended to adjust an imaginary bow-tie. Riley crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. Bozer backtracked a little and held up his hands. 'Uh…well, maybe equally as awesome? Let's call it a tie in the awesome stakes?'

Riley socked him lightly in the arm, laughed and nodded, then grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the food tables set up against one wall.

'Let's get something to eat, and you can tell me all about Mac complaining about the hair gel and Jack doing _terrible_ Marlon Brando and Al Pacino impersonations.'

Bozer's grin widened.

'Love the way you think!' He pointed at Riley with a smirk. 'And I can go one better: Mac met a woman today! He fixed her car…'

* * *

Mac made his way through the gala, a glass of champagne in hand, looking for someone he knew.

(He thought it was important to give Jack and Diane some alone time, in light of his and Jack's earlier conversation, and Riley had dragged Bozer off to get some snacks and, if he was reading the situation correctly, he really didn't want to be the third wheel.)

Eventually, he came upon the founder of the Phoenix Foundation, Michael, whom Mac knew reasonably well. The older brunette man was wearing a grey three-piece suit, and beside him stood a very petite blonde woman wearing a navy-blue swing dress with polka dots, whom Mac recognized from previous galas as his wife Caitlyn. They were in conversation with a rather elderly man that Mac didn't recognize but seemed to be wearing clothing that he'd worn himself back in the 50s, and a petite woman with light brown hair curled like Riley's who had her back to Mac. She was wearing a sky-blue dress with bright yellow flowers printed on it, a matching flower pinned in her hair, and seemed oddly familiar.

Mac made his way over to the group, intending to greet Michael, and then did a double-take when he saw the brunette woman's face.

' _Beth_?'

' _Mac_?'

She seemed just as surprised as he felt, at least until his brain very quickly put the pieces together.

Michael Taylor was the founder of the Phoenix Foundation. Beth's surname was Taylor. Caitlyn O'Reilly, Michael's wife, was a chemistry professor. Beth's mom was a chemistry professor.

 _Well, coincidences are statistically inevitable._

Beth found her voice again first, and gestured to him while addressing her parents.

'Mac is the guy who fixed my car.'

'The one who you wished you asked for his-'

Caitlyn put her hand on her husband's arm, shooting him a pointed glance, and Beth, cheeks pinking, quickly cut her dad off. Mac couldn't help but smile a little wider.

 _Well, that confirms it._

 _I definitely made a mistake when I didn't ask her for her number._

 _Yes, I'm going to rectify it, don't worry._

 _I'm not that crazy._

 _Just not in front of her parents._

 _Later._

 _Timing is everything._

'Yes.'

Michael smiled sheepishly.

'Mac is also the former Army EOD who made those improvements to the knee joints of the leg prostheses I was telling you about…' His expression grew more sheepish and rather wry. 'I never mentioned his name, did I?'

Beth and Caitlyn both nodded, then exchanged a fondly exasperated glance, the younger woman speaking.

'No, you were too caught up in the engineering, Dad.'

 _Despite the fact that it'd have been nice to have known about our two degrees of separation this afternoon, A, no harm, no foul, and B, I can't blame anyone for getting a little too caught up in the engineering._

* * *

A couple of minutes later, Mac and Beth were standing at one of those unusually tall and unusually small tables so prevalent at parties, sipping champagne and talking.

(Her parents and the elderly man they'd been talking to – one of the Phoenix's main sponsors and a family friend, apparently - had _just-so-happened_ to spot someone they just _had_ to talk to.)

'This is officially the second-most unlikely coincidence of my life.'

Beth quirked an eyebrow at him, tilting her head to the left a little, voice very curious.

' _Second-most_? What was the most?'

He smiled wryly.

'Well, a couple of years ago, my new work friend turned out to be the daughter of my old Army partner and really close friend's ex-girlfriend…'

* * *

'I've been to the last four of these galas, but I don't remember seeing you. And trust me, I'd have remembered you.'

Mac spoke after chewing and swallowing his mouthful of mini-quiche, the other half of the pastry still in his hands.

 _I know, I know, I'm terrible at flirting. I'm pretty sure I got that out of a movie._

Beth swallowed her own bite of quiche, her smile half-teasing, half-shy, and jabbed at the air in front of his chest with a finger.

 _But hey, it seems to be working. If it ain't broke…_

'You have a near-eidetic memory, don't you?' He nodded, a _you caught me there,_ somewhat sheepish look appearing on his face, which made her giggle. 'And tonight's my first time at the Phoenix gala, actually; they started when I was in med school at Northwestern, and then I did my residency in Detroit, and last year, I was in Syria with MSF, so I've never had the chance…'

He smiled, definite admiration in his eyes.

'Philanthropy clearly runs in the family.' Beth's cheeks flushed a little. 'You're responsible for the collaboration with MSF that's in the works, aren't you?'

She shook her head.

'No, not really, I just introduced a couple of my contacts…'

* * *

Jack downed the rest of his champagne, then held out a hand to Diane, motioning towards the dancefloor with his head.

'Wanna dance?'

Diane looked at him with piercing, knowing eyes, then her smile widened and she took his hand.

* * *

 **7 PM**

* * *

Riley got up from her seat by the wall, where she and Bozer were people-watching and chatting, gesturing towards the dancefloor with a motion of her head.

'Come on, let's dance!'

Bozer grinned and got up, bowing exaggeratedly and offering Riley a hand, which made her roll her eyes and laugh, and they made their way to the dancefloor.

He expected her to say something about how she's gotta have a partner who could keep up with her, which ruled out Mac, since he was kinda hopeless at dancing (Mac was agile and coordinated, but he just lacked rhythm), and it seemed that his BFF was busy anyway (Bozer had run into his BFF very briefly in the bathroom earlier and Mac had said something about the second-most improbable coincidence of his life and Beth being Michael Taylor's daughter – Bozer, despite never having met Beth and knowing very little about her, totally shipped it – his gut told him to, and besides, Mac's day could totally have come out of a rom-com, of course he had to ship it!), and asking anyone else ran the risk of being stuck with some guy with wandering hands.

But she didn't.

Riley seemed to read what was on his face, because as she took his other hand to start the jitterbug, she smiled at him, one of those soft, almost-sweet smiles on her face that'd once been a rare sight on her and was now becoming more common.

'I just want to dance with you.'

Bozer smiled one of those soft, almost-sweet smiles back at her.

* * *

 **8 PM**

* * *

'…And of course, the crazy kid can't resist a challenge, which Boze knew, of course. I went to the bathroom, and when I got out, Mac's covered in hot chocolate and looking at the stick blender like it stole all his spare toasters, and Boze and Ri are laughing their heads off…'

As he and Diane walked through the hotel's well-manicured garden area, Jack shook his head with a very fond, very paternal smile on his face as he recounted a story about Mac being essentially challenged to improve their stick blender by Bozer, so that the forensic accountant could make his special, top-secret-recipe hot chocolate even better even faster.

(That fond, paternal smile, and the matching tone in his voice, tugged at her heartstrings and warmed her from the inside out.)

(And there was something unbelievably attractive about a man who was a good father, especially a good father to her beloved, precious daughter.)

Diane smiled, pausing in a rather secluded corner, behind several large shrubs, then leaned over and kissed him. It was a light, chaste kiss, but still very much a kiss.

Jack blinked, surprised and shocked still and silent (at least, for as long as Jack ever was silent) in a way that was very flattering.

'I'm…I'm not complaining, but what was that for?'

Diane laughed, her smile widening, taking his hand and tangling her fingers with his.

'I've given some very undeserved second chances, but I think you're very deserving of one, Jack Dalton.'

He grinned at her like she'd given him the moon, and squeezed her hand gently, and they resumed strolling through the gardens, hand in hand.

'Maybe the kiddos will stop going all _Parent Trap_ on us now.'

Diane laughed again, leaning her head on Jack's shoulder for a moment.

One of the many things she'd loved about Jack Dalton was the fact that he could always make her laugh.

She was as sure as she could be that it was one of the things that she'd grow to love about him again.

* * *

'Well, you've accounted for angle, velocity, force, heel length and thinness…the only other main factor I can think of would be getting the right spot.'

Beth examined the mathematical model Mac had written out on a paper napkin.

(Inspired by the footwear of quite a few of the women in attendance, they'd wound up discussing the possibility of stabbing someone with a stiletto heel.)

(From a scientific perspective; neither of them had any intentions of attempting murder.)

Mac gave a wry smile.

'That variable's a bit too hard to account for in this model.' His expression grew more wry. 'And biology's not really my area; I got a C.' She looked astounded at that, and he gave a sheepish smirk. 'Homework was 50% of the grade, and there were other things that I found more interesting and fun, so I never did it, but I aced all the tests and the extra credit questions, so…'

She shook her head in a way that was both fond and exasperated, looking up at him and poking at the air in front of his sternum.

'You, Angus MacGyver, are _ridiculous._ '

He looked down at her, into her eyes, which were warm and teasing and really, really reminded him of Bozer's special hot chocolate, and smiled and spoke without really thinking about it.

'Can I have your number?'

As soon as he realized what'd come out of his mouth, he kicked himself internally.

 _Great job, MacGyver. Great job._

 _Not._

 _Timing is everything, remember?_

At least some of his internal reaction must have shown, because Beth giggled, but nodded and smiled, flushing a little again and gently tugging the pen out of his hands, writing her phone number onto a spare paper napkin.

She then handed him back the pen and the napkin, which he pocketed carefully, and he wrote his own number down on the napkin that also had his stiletto-stabbing model on it, then handed it to her.

Beth folded it neatly and tucked it into one of her dress pockets, very carefully.

'I have two reasons to keep this napkin safe now.'

A little voice in Mac's head that sounded an awful lot like his grandfather told him _never mind asking for her phone number, just ask this woman to marry you already!_

* * *

As they stepped off the dancefloor for a drink and a break, Riley leaned over and kissed Bozer softly, gently, sweetly, on the cheek, rather close to the corner of his mouth.

He stopped in his tracks, blinking, then turned his head and stared at her. Riley just looked into his eyes and smiled that soft, almost-sweet smile, a smile that had just a touch, a tiny, tiny touch, of shyness to it.

A matching smile slowly grew on Bozer's face, and then, side-by-side, they walked towards the bar to get something to drink.

* * *

AN: Do you think that I got the 'balance' right with Riley and Bozer's relationship? I think if they're going to do eventual/endgame Bozer/Riley in canon, I think it's going to have to go something like this, a slowly-evolving, slow-build friends-to-lovers thing (which is really what I've been thinking all along). What'd you all think about greaser!Mac? The Jack/Diane scene in the garden might just be my favourite of all of these little snippets, I think, probably followed by Mac and Jack's chat on the couch…

And yes, we've just got an epilogue to go now – any guesses for when it's set?


	5. Chapter 5

**VALENTINE'S DAY 2019**

 **NAPA VALLEY**

* * *

Jack, lying down on the picnic blanket, knees folded up, feet planted on the ground and one hand behind his head, the other gesturing expressively, grinned as he told Diane all about Mac's pancake-making toaster mishap, which had ended with the blonde's hair covered in pancake batter after the toaster had shot it onto the ceiling, after which it had dripped down onto his head.

(Diane and Riley had missed it, as they'd gone for a mother-daughter brunch.)

His girlfriend, sitting up on the blanket, laughed musically, then drained the last of her glass of wine, put down the empty glass, and lay down on the blanket. Jack obligingly spread one arm out, and Diane settled her head on his shoulder, tucking herself closer into his side as he wrapped his arm around her.

They lay there in comfortable, peaceful silence for a moment, before Diane shifted a little to kiss him (thoroughly and not chastely at all – taking advantage of the fact that Riley was not around; they refrained from much PDA in front of her, both knowing that no-one wanted to see their parental figures doing much more than chaste kissing).

When they broke apart, she settled back down on his shoulder, smiling.

'Happy Valentine's Day, Jack Dalton.'

He grinned and pressed a kiss to the top of her curls.

'Happy Valentine's Day, Diane.'

* * *

 _Jack and Diane have definitely made the most of their second chance._

 _They're a textbook example for why we should, if we think they're deserved, give out second chances._

 _They say third time lucky, but in this case, I think it should be second time lucky._

 _Between you and me, I reckon Jack's not just going to be the closest thing that Riley's ever had to a father._

 _I think he's going to be her stepdad, officially._

* * *

 **RILEY'S RESIDENCE**

* * *

Bozer, still wearing his _Kiss the Cook_ apron, gave an exaggerated bow and pulled out Riley's chair for her. With a fond smile and headshake, Riley sat down, sipping her wine and watching with affectionate eyes as Bozer bustled into the kitchen to grab the plates of amazingly-delicious-smelling food, setting it down before her with a flourish before shucking his apron and sitting down.

Before they dug into their dinner, though, Riley leaned across the table to kiss him.

She'd already followed the instructions on his apron earlier, but she simply felt like doing it again.

* * *

 _They say it's about the journey, not the destination._

 _Now, I'm not sold on that, probably because there's been some pretty horrible moments in my journey, and the journeys of some of my loved ones, and maybe also 'cause I've got a soft spot for state functions._

 _And Bozer and Riley's journey to where they are now was definitely a long and complicated one, and an unconventional one to say the least._

 _But they've gotten to somewhere really special, and I know it's definitely early days, but I think they're going to be journeying together to their next destination._

* * *

 **HUNTINGTON HOSPITAL**

* * *

At 9 PM, Mac leaned against a pillar outside the exit from the hospital into the carpark, waiting for his girlfriend.

Beth had had to work until 8:45 PM (it was very hard to get time off on Valentine's Day), but Mac was nothing if not adaptable and excellent at with working with what he had.

Beth had the next three days off, so they were going to drive up to the cabin in the woods that Mac's grandfather had left him. After he'd gotten off work at 5, Mac had headed home, eaten an early dinner, and taken a nap to prepare for the three hour drive, before putting together something for her to eat, grabbing their weekend bags (she'd left hers at his place a couple of days ago) and heading to the hospital to pick her up.

At precisely 9:01 PM (Beth was never more than 5 minutes late for anything, barring a significant emergency or disaster, and she'd said she'd meet him at 9), Beth emerged from the hospital, dressed in a navy-blue Henley and jeans, having changed after her shift.

She smiled widely at him in greeting, a gesture he returned, before he reached out and stole her bag from her, wrapping his free arm around her waist. She shot him a look, but cuddled a little closer in thanks as they walked towards his car.

They got into the car, Mac depositing Beth's bag into the front passenger side footwell. She gave a little chuckle as she noticed the ham and cheese sandwich in a Tupperware container and the Thermos (which contained vegetable soup) resting on the front seat. She smiled at him, something very amused and fond and knowing in her eyes, and shifted them out of the way to sit down, then leaned over to kiss him.

'I love you.'

He grinned back, eyes bright with that same memory, that same inside joke, as he did up his seatbelt.

'Love you too.'

* * *

 _We didn't meet in college. We didn't meet in a bar. We weren't introduced by mutual friends. We didn't even meet online._

 _We met when I fixed her car using the very same trick that won me my twelfth science fair._

 _I guess that's kinda a conventional meet-cute, but neither of us were anywhere near smooth, and we had some pretty weird and really nerdy conversations during our first meeting._

 _Then, we wound up running into each other again in the second-most improbable coincidence of my life, and, well, the rest is history._

 _Anyway, my point is, a little bit weird is a defining feature of our relationship._

 _The first time Beth told me she loved me, it was when I picked her up after a long shift for a picnic-and-stargazing-using-the-light-pollution-filtering-glasses-I-knocked-up date and handed her a ham and cheese sandwich to tide her over until we got there._

 _Ever since, ham and cheese sandwiches have kind of had a symbolic meaning for the two of us._

 _I know, I know, that's really weird._

 _But, according to Dr Seuss, when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love._

 _I've got a gut feeling that there's going to be a lot of ham and cheese sandwiches in my future._

* * *

AN: I think my favourite bit of this epilogue is the ham and cheese sandwich bit…

The headcanon regarding why Mac got a C in Biology belongs to TinkerBella. It's my headcanon that the first time Beth tells Mac that she loves him is at a slightly inappropriate/weird/bizarre moment (like after he gives her a ham and cheese sandwich after a long shift) after having a brain-mouth filter-fail. (It's a headcanon born from the _Just Another Patriotic Guy_ AU, which I came up with while we thought Nikki was evil – I thought 'I love you' might be a bit of a sensitive point for Mac as a result of her 'betrayal', so felt that an 'I love you' in a weird or inappropriate moment that couldn't possibly be anything but utterly genuine and completely non-contrived would be particularly meaningful for him. As you must have surely realized by now, I'm a romantic...)

I hope you guys have enjoyed this little (well, maybe not so little…) Valentine's Day fic! If you're keen on these ships/romance with plenty of Team-as-Family too/not-spies!AUs/sometimes-stupid-genius!Mac, I have another fic with plenty of that to be posted soon. It's called _Give Your Heart a Chance_ and I'll start posting it once _The Stone-Hearted Queen_ is done.


End file.
